The Scars On His Back
by Anj0921
Summary: All Maxon wanted from his father, King Clarkson Schreave was acceptance and a bit of love. What he got instead was embarrassment, humiliation and pain through the scars on his back. How did it all begin? Read to find out. *COMPLETE*
1. Maxon

**Dedicated to MysteryGal5. Happy Birthday!**

 **Warning- Contains slight violence.**

 **Trigger alert.**

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"Good evening, your highness." A guard, Officer Jeffery if I am not wrong, greeted me as I walked along the third floor corridor, heading to my room.

"Good evening," I replied and asked him, "Do you know where my mother is?"

"I believe she has retired to her quarters for the night, your highness." He informed me.

I nodded and thanked him, continuing on my journey to my room. Once again, earlier during the day, father gave mother a gift. Then, during dinner, he gave her wine until she felt extremely tired, making her go to bed earlier than her usual routine. There isn't anything wrong with gifting your wife some precious jewelry, but if it happens on a weekly basis, you know something is wrong. Especially if it has been happening for a month or two now.

And I now know exactly what he is doing. Sometimes, despite the walls in the palace being thick, if you cross his bedroom during the night and listen hard enough, you can hear what they are up to. Not mother and father, but father and his mistress. The guard he had positioned outside his bedroom door for as long as I can remember also disappeared after a few of her visits.

As I walk along the hallway, I spot a portrait of mother and father standing next to each other. Side by side, dad's hand around mom's waist. You can see the love, adoration and respect she has for him; it's written clearly on her face. But you can tell nothing from his expression; it's as blank as a sheet of unused paper.

Father's room comes on the way to my room. As I walk along the hallway, nearing his room, I see her. The mistress. Her dress looked like it was worn in a hurry and she was wearing a cloak. As if that could cover up what they had been doing a while ago. Does mother know about this? Should I tell her? It's wrong for him to do this, but my father is the king. There is nobody to tell him to stop what he is doing. So I suppose I should tell him. After all, I am his only son. There is nobody except mom and I to look out for him, and since she will be unable to right now, I will.

With this thought in my mind, I go up to his bedroom and open the door. There was beads of sweat dotting his forehead and he was tying his robe.

"You cannot let that whore in here again." I said, getting angrier by the second. This was a mistake. A big mistake. He came up to me as quick as a cheetah and yanked on my hand really hard, pulling me into his room. I screamt out in pain as a burning sensation ran over my shoulder. I fell to the ground, cradling my shoulder as it throbbed with the worst pain I ever experienced. Everything started to get blurry and tears formed in my eyes from the pain.

"Mind your own business." Father said. "You will tell this to no one. Do you understand me?"

I nodded vigorously, still trying my best not to cry from the pain in my shoulder. I was hunched over, my non-injured shoulder on the carpeted floor of the king's suite. I heard the attached bathroom door open and assumed that he is going to get a medical kit to help me. He came out from the bathroom, went into his walk-in wardrobe and went back to the bathroom.

After a while of no noise in the room, I carefully lifted my head to see where he went. I couldn't see very clearly because there were still tears in my eyes but I didn't let any of them fall. I saw a figure moving towards me, a hazy outline of my dad coming out from the bathroom. I could see him hold something black in his hands, something which looked like one of his belts. I started to painfully crawl away from him, whimpering from the still-existing pain in my shoulder. It felt as if someone cut it off of me and then shabbily stitched it back together. A tear slipped out of my eye and I quickly wiped it away. Father told me countless times that kings don't cry and every time I did, he ended up shouting at me.

I hit the leg of his bed and he took two big strides, hovering over me. "Kings don't cry, Maxon." He said and paused for a moment. "Don't try to tell me what to do." He added.

He hit the belt against my back as I screamt out in agony. This is nothing compared to the pain in my shoulder. All the tears sprang free of the barricade in my eyes, falling down onto the carpet. I cried, unable to hold back my sobs anymore. He bent down and pulled me to the center of his room by the collar as I cried in pain. My shoulder hurt, my back hurt, my voice hurt, my eyes hurt. My shirt rubbed roughly against the gash on my back, feeling as though someone stabbed my back a million times with a sword.

He let go of my collar as we reached where he wanted and repeated, "Kings don't cry, Maxon." The belt hit my back again as I shouted out on the top of my voice, hoping someone, anyone, heard my screams of pain and saved me from this torture. The world started to tilt and change colours. Purple to blue to green to orange to red. The colours kept on changing, like the world couldn't decide which colour it wanted to be. My ears rung. He hit me again as I started to curl up on myself, despite the ache in my shoulder. I could feel the tears in my eyes, running down my cheeks and falling onto the carpet. There were so many tears. So much pain. Finally, after what felt like a century, the world decided which colour it wanted to be, and everything turned black.

The sunlight hitting my face made colours dance inside my eyelids. As I tried to turn away from the light, my back burnt and that fire spread up to my shoulder. I groaned and as I did so, I slowly opened my eyes, using the hand which hurt lesser to move as a shield for my eyes from the sun. Someone closed the curtains and I snapped my head to the person who closed them.

"Are you feeling better, Your highness?" My butler, Emory, asked me. My eyes widened in panic. Does he know what happened to me? Does everyone know? Seeing my rising fear, Emory added, "You were roughhousing with one of the guards. I suppose that he got a little to rough and dislocated your shoulder, Sir. Do you need the doctor? Or maybe some painkillers?"

I had no idea what Emory was babbling on about until it hit me, he doesn't know. No one knows. They think I was playing with some guard and dislocated my shoulder. That's probably what father told them. Emory was staring at me with concern and as soon as I realized I still haven't replied, I told him, "Some painkillers will be fine, thank you."

He nodded and got me some medicine with a glass of water. I didn't dare move. Not until he was out of here. After keeping the medicine and water on the bedside table, Emory left, informing me that the doctor will be by later today. I tried moving, but as soon as I did, my back and shoulder started to burn again.

Eventually, I managed to reach the medicine and swallowed it as soon as possible, dying for some relief from this seemingly endless pain. As I swallowed, I realized, no one but father knew what happened. There was no one to help me get through this now. No one to save me from going through this again. And I wasn't going to let anyone find out about this. Who knows what father will do if he finds out I told someone?

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 **Okay, so how was that? It is the first time I have written something, and I feel like its pretty good.**

 **This is what Maxon told Eadlyn in The Crown about his first whipping. I know, he might have been quiet and endured it, but I thought that it was his first time. He dislocated his shoulder. He has no idea what's happening. And he is 11. It isn't that realistic that he wouldn't scream out.**

 **I might have gotten a little carried away with making Clarkson evil and all as well... Whoops.**

 **Comment what you thought!**

 **If you have any ideas message me!**

 **Next update- Find out what went through Clarkson's head.**


	2. Clarkson

**Thank you all who gave this a shot and decided to read this! Thank you everyone who followed this and added it to their favorites! Please comment what you thought of this fanfiction.**

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"You cannot let that whore in here again." Someone said as they barged into my bedroom. I swiftly ran up to the speaker, Maxon, that useless kid, and yanked him inside my bedroom as he yelled out in pain. What was he trying to do, tell the whole world? If he figured it out, how many others knew about this? It will be hard to get rid of all those who knew (which could be a pretty large number if a eleven year old kid can figure it out), but nobody would question the king. Besides, if someone would dare question me, I'll get rid of them before they knew what happened to them. I even made sure to not keep a guard outside my bedroom door now.

I hated it when people told me what to do. I was the king; they had to do what I told them to. Not the other way around. It was a simple rule, yet, Maxon, my own son, never did what I told him to do. Not the way I wanted him to, at least. That boy is a complete and utter disappointment. But I can't get rid of him for two reasons. One, that he was the heir to the throne, and since Amberly has problems carrying children for the whole nine months, the only one. Two, I wouldn't hurt my dear, sweet Amberly by killing her only son.

This boy needed to be taught a lesson. He should know better than to pry in my business. "Mind your own business." I told him and added, "You will tell this to no one. Do you understand me?" No one else will know of this for as long as I can help it.

He nodded vigorously, clutching his shoulder in pain. Pathetic. Which king can't bare some shoulder pain? But I don't think he understood what I meant. I don't think he knows what might happen to him if someone else, or god forbid, Amberly found out. He needs something so he can remember what will happen to him every time he steps out of line with me.

I go to my adjoining bathroom and wash my face. Drying it, I decide what to exactly do to him. I'll whip him. As easy as that. I go to my walk-in closet, pick one of my oldest belts and wet it in the bathroom. I leave the bathroom and start moving toward Maxon who is lying on the ground, cradling his shoulder to try to reduce the pain. He notices me coming towards him and his eyes widen when he sees the belt in my hands. Like the pathetic kid that he is, he starts pushing himself away from me, whimpering in pain.

I haven't even done anything yet and already the kid is afraid of me.

He hit one of the legs of my bed and I towered over his crouched figure. "Kings don't cry, Maxon" I remind him once again. As a afterthought, I add, "Don't tell me what to do."

Deciding that its time that someone teaches this boy a lesson, I hit the belt against his back. It makes a satisfying sound, and immediately, he screams out in pain.

Good. Remember this. This is what I will do to you every time you make a fool of yourself and indirectly end up making a fool of me.

I pull him to the center of the room by his shoulder and let go when I reach where I want him. I noticed that he started crying and I smiled.

Pretty sure he won't forget this.

Deciding to remind him again, I say again, "Kings don't cry, Maxon." I hit him again as he let out another scream and continues crying.

I don't think he gets it, I said that 'Kings don't cry' and here he is. Bawling his eyes out. I bet even Amberly has never cried like this before.

He rested his head against the carpeted floor and I hit him once again. This time, instead of crying out like a silly kid, he just sobs silently. He starts to slowly curl up on himself and he rests his head on the floor.

And that's when it hit me. I just whipped my own son. And instead of hating it, I liked it. I noticed that the sobs stopped and knelt down beside him. He passed out.

What am I supposed to do now? He cannot stay here in my room. People will know it was me. And no one can know that he got whipped. They'll suspect me yet again. The only way no one will know is if he doesn't tell anybody. And I am pretty sure he wouldn't. After all, he wouldn't want me to do this again, would he?

I take him to his room through one of the hidden passageways and call a nurse to his room. I tell her to tend to his back and check his shoulder, and warn her to not utter a single word about this to anyone. Either way, she will be gone by the time Maxon will be fit enough to tend to his wounds himself.

After a while, I come up with the story that Maxon was roughhousing with a few guards and ended up injuring his shoulder. To make the story more believable, I fire a few guards as well.

Hopefully, Maxon is smart enough to get the message and not tell anybody about anything. No one should know that the king isn't loyal to his queen. Or that the king whipped his own son.

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 **I hope that I could depict what might have happened well enough. Once again, thank you all for reading this.**

 **Don't forget to comment what you thought!**

 **If there is something else you would like to read, please let me know!**

 **~Anj0921**


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